


Help wanted

by TheSecondMouse



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25051945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSecondMouse/pseuds/TheSecondMouse
Summary: There needs to be more than one sane person in the household of Bruce Wayne. Alfred is godlike but Bruce just keeps adopting children. Even he can not be everywhere at once people! And so, Harry who made his way to Gotham after the war, is hired.
Comments: 102
Kudos: 627





	1. Chapter 1

Alfred Pennyworth had hoped that Bruce wasn't dead. And when he returned and made the decision to become Batman, Alfred was relieved that his ward was home safe. He still worried though. Because Batman was equiped and prepared to fight and Bruce had always been smart but he could still be hurt. The boy he had watched grow up came back with injuries every night, slept three hours or so before attending parties and board meetings.

Alfred could not stop him. And he would not have wanted to take Batman away from Bruce in any case.

This gave his ward a direction if not a purpose.

Then Bruce met Richard Grayson. And while being Batman wasn't the most important thing anymore it was still a part of Bruce.

Dick became Robin and later Nightwing.

Jason was Robin, then Red Hood.

Tim turned into Red Robin.

And Damian was the current, and perhaps last Robin.

They all needed an anchor. Something that wouldn't change. Something they could hold onto. So Alfred always did his best to be unflappable while still caring about and for them.

When Dick moved away Alfred still called him at least once a month.

Once, Jason fought with Bruce and stayed away for weeks. Alfred texted him that his favourite food would be prepared in an hour and he was expected to be there. It took two hours of being patched up before Jason opened up and started to talk.

Tim was as bad as his father with sleeping regularly, so twice a week Alfred replaced his coffee with decaf and forced him to sleep.

And Damian, well Damian had known who could poison their food and betray them all without any problem from the first day. First he was polite, then cautiously friendly and after the first month he asked Alfred for advice and named his cat after him.

But besides having to be calm for his family, Alfred honestly had seen so much that there weren't many things that could really shake him. He prided himself on his impenetrable mask.

But exhaustion and age would catch up someday. Realistically, he knew he had been doing too much work alone for too many years.

First nobody else was needed and then, well, a butler whose loyalty wasn't assured would have been worse than nobody.

Now though, Bruce and the children would be away for some time - Alien invasions were always troublesome - and perhaps he would have the time to search for someone who matched his criteria.

They had to be discret in order to keep the secret, they had to be able to fight but must want to stay in the background as support instead of going to the front lines in a mask.

They had to be loyal.

And, that was the most important one as well as the most difficult, they had to get to get along with _all_ the children _and_ Bruce.

If they were shy Bruce would be irritated.

If they were too confident Jason would scoff and want to pound them into the ground.

If they were taking aback by Damian's abruptness or Jason's anger Dick would dislike them. He wouldn't make it obvious but he would remember.

If they ignored Damian's demands Damian would challenge them to a duel or demand that they be thrown out.

If Tim didn't accept them the boy would hack into all of their records before placing them under twenty-four hour surveillance.

But Alfred would at least try to find somebody.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry had wanted to get as far from the British Wizarding World as possible after the war. He hadn't ever wanted to fight. Duels, yeah, sounds like fun, but actually killing people? No.

He did want to survive, though and he wasn't thrilled with Voldemort's dreams of genocide either, so he did what everyone thought was his duty.

But now Voldemort was dead.

In his opinion the Wizarding World should never have expected him to save them all but even if there had been some kind of moral obligation he had earned his freedom. He had suffered and bled and died and he would not give up more. He refused to live his life as public entertainment.

He didn't apply to the auror programm or even finish his education. Hogwarts was honestly a place he would be glad to never see again. It had been a home to him and it had been better than Privet Drive by far, of course, but maybe he could find something without trolls in it this time.

Others rebuilt Hogwarts and made new memories there, but that would not work for him. Every school year of his had been marked by Voldemort in some way. Hogwarts was inseperably connected with the time Harry spent trying to survive Tom Riddle's attempts to murder him.

Besides, being stared at and treated as a child again after he had had to lead an army and fought in a war was absurd.

"Yes, we all know you have been tortured and hunted and so on, but really Mr Potter do stay in your common room after eight o'clock. The rules are important, you know."

It would be like the War hadn't happend. Except for the empty seats, of course.

Working as an Auror didn't seem like a good idea either, even disregarding his wish to get away from Wizarding Britain.

Laws had always seemed more like guidelines to him and now more than ever people would turn a blind eye. If it was the Man-Who-Conquered who did something surely it was the right thing to do or at the very least, one could not punish him for whatever trifle it was. The majority trusted the symbol of Harry Potter far more than their government. He had unintentionally achieved a position above any reprimand.

He did not want to have that ability to do what he pleased without criticism.

Something very similar had enabled Dumbledore to leave him at the Dursleys.

It also allowed to make positive changes in the Wizarding World. He wrote a letter before leaving but he was long gone when it was published.

As several newspapers and those who tried to access his vaults or properties could attest to, though, he had arranged his affairs to be handled _well_ in his absence.

Nobody wanted to give goblin lawyers the opportunity to sue. Therefore, his reputation would remain just as glorious as it was at the moment. He didn't need to be persecuted as Undesirable Number One or the next Dark Lord again regardless of his distaste of dealing with the press.

Anyway, his destination turned out to be Gotham.

Leaving Britain and going to an English speaking country was predictable as was leaving the Wizarding World to an extent if he wanted some space. Living in Gotham would, on the other hand, not be expected by anyone searching for him. Harry Potter, seemingly fleeing from the violent past, going away to live in a crime capital made no sense.

But Harry had been in a war since he was a baby. He needed an environment that put less pressure on him and he needed to feel free if not safe.

Because crime was common here, everyone was expecting paranoia. Nobody got into his personal space without trying to rob him. People wouldn't suddenly fling themselves at strangers, because stabbing someone who did would have been a normal reaction. Nobody thought the saviour should hug them or let them cry on his shoulder. People weren't surprised by his scars or his mistrust towards everyone.

He could stay inside all day if he wanted to. He could buy what he wanted, go where he pleased as long as he was prepared to defend himself.

He always was.

Fitting in didn't take much adapting.

He stayed at a hotel for a few days and took the time to explore the city.

With the Potter fortune at his disposal, he could theoretically just not work. He needed some kind of task though, after the first week he was restless. Finding a job would additionally free him of any lingering guilt using the wealth of former generations and force him to not only do something productive but also interact with new people.

So when an ad in the newspaper peaked his interest and didn't require the applicant to have any qualifications he decided to go.

The name of the employer wasn't mentioned, nor were any other details.

It was suspicious as hell, but he would probably survive.

He could do what he wanted to now, and he wanted to know what part of a shady operation "needing an assistant" was code for.

And why the meeting place was in the better part of town.

He supposed he would find out at four o'clock.

Decision made he stored two more daggers and some knives in the modified wand holsters he wore on both wrists. Then he pocketed his shrunken suitcase.

Personally, he would put his money on supporting or taking the blame for the illegal actions of some rich man but you never knew when human experimentation might crop up.

Either way it was still to be decided if the job was interesting, fitting or cruel enough to accept it. His reasons and aims would shift according to the adjective used, naturally.

It promised to be something unusual in any case and that was his area of expertise, wasn't it?


	3. Chapter 3

Alfred arrived at the café twenty minutes to four, ordered himself a cup of tea and settled in to wait.

He wasn't sure if anybody would show up today. He hadn't specified much as he didn't _want_ to end up hiring a spy.

Batman had a lot of enemies of course, but even Brucie Wayne had enough power and money to be a target.

The possibility of meeting with someone trustworthy was at least a bit higher this way, though they would still have to be surveilled. Admittedly few details also made it more likely to meet with someone who wasn't too pedantic about the legality of things, someone who could fight and who would be used to a harsh world.

His household was far from normal and whoever took the job had to cope with it _somehow._

Alfred kept watching the entrance.

Ten minutes to four a young man came in and made his way towards the seating area in the background.

Looking around his gaze seemed to catagorize people and exits and finally settled on Alfred.

The young man was wearing a sturdy jacket that protected his neck, something similar to biker gloves, jeans and solid boots of some kind.

"Are you interviewing possible assistants, sir?"

The polite tone surprised Alfred to be honest. It seemed like the opposite of the young man's choice of dress. And he had a British accent.

"Yes, I am."

He wasn't going to make it easy for any candidate. If this one was scared off by Alfred's frosty manner like that person the previous day, he didn't want to imagine what would have happend if they ever met the children.

The young man only raised an eyebrow. "May I sit down then?"

"If you wish to do so I could hardly deny you."

"It would be my pleasure. You do seem to be great company."

Alfred wanted to smile. He hadn't gotten angry but he had stricken back and it wasn't quite sure if he had used sarcasm or not.

"Do I?"

"Indeed." The other kept a straight face.

The silence stretched. Alfred sipped on his tea.

The young man observed him calmly. He seemed to be able to do this for hours.

The waitress interupted. "Can I get you something?"

The young man wasn't startled and although he turned towards the waitress part of his attention was still on Alfred. This, additionally to his outfit and entrance, indicated a certain situational awareness and experience in fighting which would be appreciated. "A chamomile tea would be lovely."

"Of course. I'll be right back."

Again, there was silence.

It didn't seem to faze him.

Therefore it was time to channel the boys on their most difficult days.

Alfred tilted his chin up. "What makes you think that _you_ would be able to do this job? _I_ have been training for years." After looking the other up and down he continued. "You _obviously_ have not."

"I suppose you'll have to tell me about the qualifications needed before I can adequately answer that question."

"If you can not even understand the advertisement, I do not know _why_ you're here. It is a wonder you were able to find the way to this café if this is your usual level of incompetence."

"Yes, the abilities of the human mind are truly astounding, isn't it?" The answer was drawled.

"Those of yours? Not so much."

The man laughed.

"So what work is included under the name of an assistant in this case?"

"An assistant does everything he's told to, naturally."

"Well, that seems relatively straight forward. Anything else?"

"We would have to be sure that anyone we let into our house is living in a way that doesn't interfere with our morals, daily routine or that could pose any threat in the future. Do you have your ID with you? School records are also needed, a certificate of conduct, you will need to give us a list of your properties and funds, any previous employers have to be included in your resume, a list of previous or current romantic partners would be appreciated and a background check on your aquaintances and friends would need to be performed. Your medical records will need to be handed over. If any information changes we would need to be informed and we reserve the right to let you go if it is not suitable anymore." Alfred wasn't sure whether he was imitating Bruce or Tim right now. Both would do a very thorough background check, although they wouldn't tell the person that, because most would run away screaming or sue them. But if a candidate couldn't live with the _suggestion_ of such a disregard of privacy, they shouldn't even live in Gotham, probably.

The young man reached into his jacket. "This is my ID." He showed it to Alfred. "I guess, you couldn't have just asked me for my name?"

"You never know when some asshole might tell you a fucking fake name. So, no I fucking couldn't have." The children would have been so shoked, Alfred thought with amusement. Nobody had stayed as long as this one, but he would presumably still swear more in these interviews than he had in the last ten years.

The man across from him, apparently Hadrian Black, only smiled. Another point in his favor. "That's true, of course. A certificate of conduct will have to wait a few days until I can retrieve it as will school records I'm afraid. I have not had any previous employers, so you do not have to worry about that but I do not see any reason to inform you of my properties, former relationships, friends or medical information. If my private business interferes with your daily life, you can, of course, dismiss me after an adequate period of time."

He _still_ hadn't given up or said or done something wrong.

"That's acceptable."

"Good. Now, I would like to know the conditions of the job."

Alfred assumed his normal coutenance again. This way of conducting interviews helped him to analyse the character of the candidates and it seperated those that had a chance of being accepted from those that did not, but it was a bit tiring to behave like a teenager. Besides, this one might just stay.

"You could live with us in the manor if you want to. You being available when needed would be preferable."

"I'm not renting an appartment at the moment, so taking you up on your offer would be convenient."

"Very well. In general, you would work about forty hours per week. We would pay you 50$ for each hour and you could choose two weeks in the year you want to have free."

"If possible I'd like to take the week before and after Halloween off."

That was an unusual time, but it wasn't a problem. Alfred nodded.

"If it doesn't inconvenience you, I would propose that we meet here again next week with the needed documents."

Black grinned and stood up. "Until then."

Alfred would still conduct interviews in the coming days, but it seemed likely that this was the most fitting person he would find.

Barely eighteen, suddenly living in their home, black hair, blue eyes and a British accent? The boys were going to tease both Alfred and Bruce relentlessly.

Oh well.

Alfred smiled to himself as he left the café.

As long as they were happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry glamoured his eyes, because they're a bit noticeable.
> 
> Also, Alfred kind of lumps Bruce into the category of the kids sometimes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments!

Tim knew he was tired.

They had spent way too much time negotiating with some aliens and then fighting others and there hadn't really been any break.

Then they came home and it wasn't fair that showering and eating and walking was so exhausting.

Even after having slept for ten hours he could barely keep his eyes open. Not that he was anything near a morning person usually but today he a legitimate reason not to be. Which was why Tim was not really conscious when he shuffled into the kitchen.

But still. He could have sworn that they had only one Alfred. Not one Alfred plus one younger Alfred-ish copy-person.

Tim frowned.

Was copy-person an Alfred-copy?

At least it did do the same things Alfred was busy with. Cooking and making coffee and bringing things to the table.

Real Alfred did not seem surprised or threatend. So Tim wouldn't have to react to invasion at least. But why was...

Ugh. Too complicated for now.

Coffee first.

While he sniffed on the beverage handed to him, murmuring a thanks to the one that had handed him the drink of the gods, the purpose of life, he vaguely recognised that a conversation was being held in the background.

"...enough coffee?"

"The young master had a long week. He will probably need a few cups."

Yes, yes he did. Also, this had been a long mision and he had to be awake today, therefore he was allowed coffee.

"Understandable."

Alfred and Alfred 2.0 even sounded kind of similar. Had there been a thing with clones again?

Maybe this was Alfred's grandson? Or wait...

Tim blinked again.

Then he sat up straight.

Black hair. Blue eyes. Could still be underage. Suddenly in his home without any warning. Accepted or at least tolerated by Alfred. Seems not quite used to his environment but like he's getting there.

"Dammit Bruce!"

They were still adjusting to Jason being alive and to Damian being a stabby part of their life. And there were always villain who just exacerbated every difficulty. They had enough problems. Tim had enough problems.

When did Bruce even have the time to find another? Was this another child that was just dropped at their doorstep like "the rightful heir"?

Alfred and Damian 2.0 turned towards him.

Tim exhaled. Either way it was probably not the fault of this man? child? teenager. Might as well try to have a good start. At least he hadn't tried to kill him yet. Unlike some children of Bruce's he could name. What even was his life? 

He gave the newest addition an exhausted smile.

"Welcome to the family, I suppose."

He savoured the last of his coffee.

"So, how did you get kidnapped?"

"I wasn't, Master Tim. I've been employed by Alfred."

Really, now? So Bruce hadn't adopted him. _Alfred_ had. Or was it a clone after all? One that required accomodation and had therefore been hired? Tim mentally shrugged. Still counted as adopted and snatched to become a part of the family either way.

"So you haven't reached the stage of acceptance? That's ok, I'm sure you'll get there."

Tim blinked. Perhaps this recent addition just hadn't seen the pattern yet. "Have you met the others?"

"No. You're the first one." Ah. That's why. He would soon see. He would soon understand. "I'm Hadrian Black. It's nice too meet you." Hadrian smiled and set down a mug in front of him. "Here's your second cup of coffee."

Tim took a sip.

It _was_ good coffee.

Alright. He would need to investigate him, but Hadrian could stay. For now at least.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I wasn't really sure if I wanted to continue or how to continue and then I saw the comments...and it was like Thanks!! Here have a chapter!

Harry might be having a little too much fun with this.

But hey, could you blame him for reveling in the irony of voluntarily calling some rich muggles "Master" while never having given the old Moldyshorts the satisfaction of calling him "my lord"?

Also, their reactions to his presence were _hilarious._

Apparently Mr. Pennyworth had not exactly informed his employers about him. His tactic seemed to consist out of just throwing the people around him into the new scenario and... it seemed to work?

The first child could barely keep his eyes open, so the lack of a reaction from that boy could probably be written of as not being awake yet.

His comments about kidnapping and acceptance were weird, though.

Harry would wait and see, but if kids really did get imprisoned or something like that here, surely this manor would make an excellent spot to practice his control of fiendfire. Some inhabitants would have to be convinced to visit the zoo, of course. The location of others might be given to the police...

It was possible that it had just been a joke.

Hopefully.

Alfred seemed nice.

And he seemed like he didn't deserve to have to deal with the logistics of rebuilding a house.

Meh. They had been reconstructing Hogwarts. How hard could it be to repair a house? It would just take some time. Time in which children could escape. Or be brought to a safehouse.

It was an idea to be considered even if a huge magical explosion wasn't the most subtle of things. Might be difficult to cover up...

On the other hand...

Gas leaks were a thing, right?

But no. He would not burn anything down in a fit of rage. If he saw the children mistreated he would stun them and then apparate them away.

He could make a portkey and build a safehouse during the time period he needed to collect the necessary information.

He wouldn't let it take too long.

The hours of this job were rather vague and he lived here, it shouldn't be too difficult to sneak around a little.

For now he would concentrate on his tasks...which Alfred hadn't really talked about. He had welcomed him in this morning and shown him his room though.

It was done up in neutral colours and really more of a small apartment. Apart from his bedroom, there was an attached bathroom and a tiny kitchenette.

It would suit him just fine.

After he had set down his bags Hadrian was told to help with breakfast.

So he did.

And Hadrian had to say that he was a bit concerned about "Master Tim" if he always drank coffee like that.

That Master Bruce ate breakfast in a similar manner did not alleviate his worry.

That couldn't be healthy.

Wouldn't they rather have some tea? Milk? Or even pumpkin juice?

No?

But maybe it was just this once. They had been on a long trip...from somewhere.

Doing something.

Honestly, it was a bit aggravating to know so little about his employers. Alfred had quickly told him the names of the family members as they showed up (Master Dick and Master Jason had chosen _not_ to be here. Had there been a fight? There was some sort of tension connected to the decisions in any case...).

They were rich, but that was a given seeing as they had a manor, a butler and an assistant butler.

When he had walked towards the entrance Hadrian had wanted to laugh. So much for "muggles and wizards are _different._ How dare you compare one to the other?"

The home of his employers was a pureblood mansion. Very much so.

It screamed "This is just our normal living standard. We don't have to try to impress anyone, unlike you peasants."

So by Merlin, he was glad he didn't have to blend in as an inhabitant.

He would have done it of course, but he wasn't really thrilled by the suggestion of ( _act like Malfoy, think like Malfoy, **be** Malfoy)_ acquiescing to the demands of the upper class.

As a servant on the other hand, dry humour and (passive aggresive) politeness seemed like the way to go.

Nobody had had an obvious problem with him, at least.

Master Bruce had basically noticed him for only a fraction of a second before moving on.

Like his son he didn't seem to be a morning person either.

And then, having had the opportunity to observe them for a bit, he noticed something else.

Master Tim had a cut on his arm, his shoulder should have been in a sling and his torso was bruised.

Master Bruce favoured his right leg.

Might be time to fresh up on his mediwizard skills.

Just in case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hadrian at first: Nothing will distract me of my mission.  
> Hadrian five minutes later: They only drink coffee. Only coffee. Why?  
> Hadrian at the end of the chapter glowering at Tim: You are hurt. Do not try to hide. I see everything. I know everything. I will help you and pile blankets on you and heal you.  
> *sniffs*  
> You can not stop me.


	6. Chapter 6

When Damian went downstairs he saw the Threat, also known as Drake, father, Alfred and...an _addition._

"Who is that?"

Unexpectantly it was Alfred who answered. "That, Master Damian, is Hadrian Black. He will aid me."

"Why? You perform your tasks...adequately. We do not need _him._ "

"Thank you, but I believe we do, young Master."

He cautiously kept some distance and Black. Even if Drake had decided to forego all caution and sat down next to an unknown intruder, Damian would not follow such an insipid example.

He wasn't threatend, though! Damian was an al Ghoul and the son of Batman.

Therefore he refuted this by saying "He is a liability. We don't need two of those. We already have Drake."

Very good. An attack towards Drake wouldn't only distract from the implication of weakness but also be another small step towards taking the place of the Threat.

The new addition decided to speak. "May I ask, Master Damian, why you believe me to be a liability?"

Because he didn't know the secret and because he could betray them and because he couldn't fight. Wasn't that obvious?

In any case "I wasn't speaking to you."

Black smiled. "Yes, but I answered. Is there a reason for your anger?"

Damian scowled. "Yes."

"Then I'm sure you can articulate it. Or you could stop insulting me."

Damian sneered. "Tt. I do not have to explain my reasoning to you, fool. If you do not leave, I will..."

"Won't you sit down, Master Damian?" Alfred interjected.

Damian did not grace that question with an answer and strategically retreated from the kitchen.

As if he would eat food prepared by Black.

–––––––––

Well, that went well.

But then, a barely ten-year-old child moving like a fighter if not an assasin insulting everybody in the room before leaving after being interupted in threatening Hadrian was just par for the course, right? NOT.

One kid was hiding injuries, one refused to come "home". That seemed like abuse. But this. The behaviour of Damian meant something else.

Someone here was training child soldiers.

(The Dursley were apart from a lot of trauma also responsible for him knowing the signs of someone hiding bruises.

The villains here didn't try to recruite the sons of wealthy men to fight for them. Not when there were so many less protected and more experienced in the bowels of Gotham.

After Dumbledore he hated manipulators. Old generals who always assumed they knew best.)

And the adage "Free as a bird" didn't seem quite accurate here.

(The wizarding world made sure he knew that if given the chance people would push boundaries as far as possible. If not every idividual than the group would take advantage shamelessly of every boundary one didn't draw because it was expected not to be crossed.

He knew how guilt trips worked. He saw them in Snape's memories as well as his own life.)

He wondered whose watery blue eyes were twinkling here.

–––––––––

Bruce startled as a feeling of dread washed over him.

He turned around, but he could not see anybody.

Something green flickered in the corner of his eye.


End file.
